


Thinking of You

by eIiza



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, death mention, short sad thing i wrote while also not being able to sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 14:10:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7979551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eIiza/pseuds/eIiza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's late and Eliza has trouble falling asleep without Alex by her side.</p>
<p>She figures it out. Kinda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thinking of You

**Author's Note:**

> i cant sleep so here you go  
> mind the death mention

The bed is too cold and far too big for a night like tonight. The rain thunders down in sheets, and it hums against the window. Eliza lies there, eyes closed, bundled up, knees bunched to her chest to draw her feet closer to the warmth. The night is sleepless. The city's glow always manages to sneak past the edges of the curtains no matter which way she tries to fold them against the window frame. Her apartment is too high up to hear the occasional car, but she knows Alex would complain about the noise if he decided to stay. But she doesn't want to think about that.

  
Instead, she glances the glow of the clock that tells her there's no chance she's getting enough sleep to have a decent day at work tomorrow. She's tempted to call in when the morning comes, to work, to her friends, to her family, to happiness and any semblance of acting like there's something to stick around for. She doesn't want any of it, not while she's this in-between world where the rain sings a taunting lullaby, one that won't bring her any closer to sleep, where the room is lit just enough to ghost the edges of what's supposed to be comforting in her vision, and definitely not in a bed where if she rolls toward the cold she hits the wall instead of her Alex, her other half, the one who promised her ages ago-

  
She doesn't want any of this.

  
Eliza opens her eyes in an attempt to distract her train of thought with new stimuli, but that doesn't do much. It's cold and it's dark and the ache in her chest she refuses to acknowledge threatens to break the wall of false, numb acceptance she hastily put up. She wishes sleep would come knock her out cold, cold as the bed, frozen like her heart. If it's not beating (like it used to for him), then it can't ache either, can't reminder her that he chose to-

  
Eliza fixes her eyes on the clock. 3:42. The colon blinks along with time. Eliza counts the seconds. She reaches twenty five just as the clock changes to 3:43. Then she gets an idea. Getting on her knees she rearranges the extra pillows against the wall, the biggest near her head trailing down to the smallest at her feet. Grabbing her fleece blanket, she drapes it over the pillows, tucking them into one giant pillowcase. For warmth, she reasons. She shoves her pillow over next to her creation, and lies down, shimmying back against it. She feels her own heat resonate back, almost as if the blanketed pillows were creating their own. She tucks the two of them in with her duvet, snuggling back up against her pillows. After a moment, she reaches over her shoulder and pulls the corner of the fleece blanket over her waist. There. If she drifts far enough, she can convince herself that it's him with his arm wrapped around her, that he's gently snoring, body heat shielding her from the cold wall. If she goes a bit further, she can convince herself he never left, he didn't choose to meet Burr before the sun rose that night. At the very least, she can convince herself that he came back in one piece.


End file.
